


without me being able to tell you what I really want to say, time is up

by helpwhatshappeninguh



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Karl Jacobs-centric, Time Travelling Karl Jacobs, TommyInnit Swears (Video Blogging RPF), Web Series: Tales from the SMP, im probbaly gonna write an alternate version of thissss, this idea has been haunting me so i ignored canon to write it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:07:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29628162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helpwhatshappeninguh/pseuds/helpwhatshappeninguh
Summary: “‘Behind him, he heard footsteps as his vision faded to black and static began to play in his mind. The last thing he heard was a faint, “I’m sorry, Hutt,” before everything went black.’”Tommy stares at him incredulously. “Wait, so he just fucking dies?"(The stories need to be carried on. Someone needs to remember them; Someone needs to tell everyone. Karl finds someone in three children who have seen and heard too much.)
Relationships: Karl Jacobs & Ranboo, Karl Jacobs & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Karl Jacobs & TommyInnit, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 101





	without me being able to tell you what I really want to say, time is up

**Author's Note:**

> TW's for: blood, minor gore desc, (just stuff from the tales) violence
> 
> lmk if i messed any tw's !
> 
> sorry purpled ily but you don't exist in this because i like the number three more <3
> 
> ik the inbetween said he can't share the tales to anyone but idc you can't tell me what to do 
> 
> there's probably some plot holes in this cuz i'm bad 
> 
> title's from i touched a vase by balloon

“And then; for one of the first times that night; the butler spoke with confidence, but the words he spoke were horrifying; “‘I’m going to have to ask you to go back inside there, Hutt.’” 

Karl held in a laugh at the sight of the three children looking like they were about to fall off of the logs they sat on, deepening his voice to try and match that of the butler’s. He noticed Ranboo’s eyes widen in surprise.

“‘Come on,” The butler repeated, gesturing towards inside the painting. Inside, Hutt could hear Sir Billiam echo the sentiment. Fear was making his heart feel like it was leaping out of his chest as his hands trembled. The butler locked eyes with him again, and Hutt froze. 

“‘Go back in there, Hutt.” The butler’s voice pounded in Hutt’s ears, and faced with no other option, he found himself walking back into the painting on trembling legs. Sir Billiam smiled lightly at him, malice barely hidden. 

“‘.. What is the purpose of this..? What are you getting at.. I- i don’t understand..” Billiam’s lips curled up, malice no longer hidden at all as sharp teeth curled somehow into a wider grin as he turned to stare at the egg.

“‘Well, it’s just what the egg wants, you know?” Hutt blinked, hesitantly staring at the egg. 

“‘Is.. is it done possessing people..?” Billiam turned away from staring lovingly at the egg, to face Hutt with his terrifying grin. 

“‘Well, until its hungry again.” Just then, the lights began to flicker. Hutt looked around, crying out in shock. He knew what this meant. He jerked to stare at Billiam, who was now staring at something behind him. “Oh… the egg is hungry.” 

“‘Hutt felt dread explode in his stomach, and he spun around to run. But before he could, a pain exploded in his stomach. He looked down, and there it was; a netherite sword, embedded in his stomach. Hutt jerked up to stare at his attacker, who was none other than the butler, staring at him with a solemn expression.”

“‘Behind him, he heard footsteps as his vision faded to black and static began to play in his mind. The last thing he heard was a faint, “I’m sorry, Hutt,” before everything went black.’”

Karl grinned, leaning backwards from the log he was sitting on. “The end!” He shouted cheerfully, and he watched as all three kid’s jaws dropped as they just stared at him, before exploding. 

“What the fuck?”

“What the hell?”

“Wait, what?” 

Karl laughed, throwing his head back at their shock, ignoring the way a phantom pain seemed to burn in his stomach. “You heard me!” 

Tommy stared at him incredulously. “Wait, so he just fucking died? He got sacrificed too?” 

Karl shrugged. “Yeah, and probably. I dunno what they did with the bodies after.” Ranboo blinked at him.

“Where did you even hear of a story like that anyways..?” Karl turned his head to stare at multicolored eyes, who looked at him blankly. Karl grins, brain scurrying to think of a lie as the pain begins to burn worse. 

“Met a guy on one of my travels, a few years back. Pretty sure he got thrown in jail a few days later, though. Something about stealing a child and robbing a bank? I’m not sure.” Karl talks fast, resisting the urge to wince. His stomach felt like it was burning now, like the sword was there and twisting in circles in his gut. 

“Wait, so how’d he-” Tubbo began, but Karl quickly sat up and cut him off. He really needed to stop stalking about this. The pain hurt like a bitch. 

“Sorry guys, but I think we should all head to bed now.” Tommy gaped at him to protest. 

“What? It’s Friday! I can stay up as late as I want!” Kale couldn’t help his smile. Despite everything, despite how much he denied it, he knew Tommy was still a kid. 

“There’s literally no school here. It doesn’t matter if it’s weekend or weekdays, it’s still late.” Tommy huffed, about to protest more, but Karl sent him a look, and the boy huffed. 

It wasn’t a lie; Besides, it had become incredibly late; the fire they had set around their logs was the only thing lighting up the area blanketed by the dark sky. 

Tubbo and Tommy quickly began heading back to their home in Snowchester, but Rnaboo stayed behind for a moment, staring at Karl. Karl cringed. 

“..Ranboo..?” He prompted, staring at the tall teenager who blinked at him for a moment. 

Ranboo shook his head, standing up. “Ah.. it’s nothing. Thanks for the story,” Ranboo sent Karl a smile, one the latter returned as he tried not to flinch upon the sight of retreating black and white hair. 

Karl sighs as he crumpes to the ground, lying with his back against the leg and the fire right next to his face. His stomach still seems to burn with pain that he knows isn’t real; if only his mind knew that. 

He sighs, shutting his eyes softly and resting his head against the back of the log when a branch rustling snaps him out of his small moment of his silence. He opens his eyes slowly, and standing across from him, hazy through the flames, is a man. 

“Dream.” He says simply, and the man wearing the green hoodie sits down on the log across from him, gently taking his mask off and green eyes turn to stare into Karl’s. ‘How are you?”

Dream doesn’t answer, instead continuing to stare at Karl through the flames. The silence is overbearing, and Karl is thinking of an excuse to leave when Dream finally speaks. 

“Don’t you think telling the children that they could quite possibly be murdered is a bit evil?” Dream’s voice is steady, and Karl stares at him in silent shock for a moment. 

“What?” He stumbles out, staring at Dream for a moment. The man’s face is still; eyes revealing nothing and mouth pursed into a straight line. “They’re just stories, Dream.” 

Dream’s eyes narrow, and Karl, despite the glare slightly terrifying him, can’t help but feel a little relieved at the little show of emotion. “Stories don’t happen in real life, Karl. That’s the point of them. They’re fiction. So, tell me, why do your stories just so happen to be about real things that have occurred?” 

Panic flares up in Karl’s chest as he stares at Dream in surprise, mouth opening slightly as he searches for something to say.

How did Dream know they were real? Nobody was supposed to know that.

That was one of the rules in the Inbetween. Share the stories as fiction. The dark tales didn’t deserve to be given a place in history, didn’t deserve to dictate the fear of the people today. That’s why they’d been written off as fiction, not real and yet still remembered. 

So how did Dream know? 

“How do I know..?” Karl paused in his panicked thinking, staring at Dream for a moment. He cringed, was he that easy to read?

Dream continued. “I  _ made  _ this land, Karl. I know everything. I know the crater to the east that sounds suspiciously like a certain Town that never was. I know of a certain murder in a villager hundreds of years ago. I know of pirates, and I know of the egg that is currently beginning its reign over the server. The question is, why do you know this?”

Dream is glaring at Karl now. Karl can’t even bring himself to be scared at that because his mind is looping on  _ why Dream knows this.  _

“I..” Karl can’t help hios panic, and despite knowing it’s a dirty trick, he pulls out his final card. “Don’t act like you care about anyone. You don’t care if anyone is terrified. You like them being scared.” 

Dream flinches for a moment, before standing up. He opens his mouth to say something, but Karl just wants this to be over. 

“This is over, Dream,” Karl relies on the log as he gets to his feet, casting a wary look at Dream. 

“It’s not.” Dream says simply. Karl’s had enough, and he turned to walk away. “You know,” He notes, a laugh curling its way into his voice. “I could tell everyone.” Karl stops, and Dream takes this as a sign to continue. “How would everyone feel if they knew you were lying? That you knew more about the egg? That you were hiding information?” Dream’s voice changes, changes into that tone of  _ insanity, the tone he uses when he thinks he’s about to get what he wants.  _

A laugh forces its way out of Karl’s throat, surprising him, and evidently Dream by the fact that when he turns around with a slight grin the man’s eyes are slightly wide for a millisecond.

“Try it,” He says, forcing the words out of his throat. They feel like bile. Karl doesn’t want to threaten his friend; doesn’t want to say anything mean to him. But he knows his duty as a deity comes first; knows he needs to protect the ones who will carry on his stories more than the ones he cares about the most. 

“You have no allies, Dream. They’ll all take my side, and they’ll hate you more.” Dream goes back to glaring, and Karl turns back around and walks back into the snowy forest before the hooded man can respond.

When he thinks he’s far enough he finally takes the chance to breathe. His lungs felt like they’ve seized up and are wheezing for air as he leans back against a tree, tilting his head up. The cold air feels both comforting and chilling; simultaneously waking up his senses and freezing them at once. 

He pulls a pocket watch out of his sweatshirt pocket. The hands are at zero. He shuts his eyes, and he knows it’s time.

Time to watch another person die. 

This time, after an adventure with guns and democrat haters and bandits and his first friend being shot dead in front of him, he opens his eyes and he’s in the Inbetween and he can’t remember anything. 

The book says this place is called the Inbetween, at least. He’s not so sure on how much he trusts it; the white castle gives him an uneasy feeling. 

When he stumbles into a garden full of identical versions of himself, that feeling worsens. He stares at them in surprise, and much to his shock,  _ they stare back.  _

One looks at him casually and tilts its head. “Oh, why’re you here?” 

Another does the same. “We thought you knew everything.” 

A third walks in, hand stuffed in white sweatshirt pockets. “He broke the rules, I think. They’re taking his memory away again.” 

One gasps. “Oh, that’s terrible.” 

Karl finally manages to find his voice. “Who are you guys?” He croaks out. They stop talking, turning to look at him. 

“Oh, don’t know?” The first one tilts its head again and smiles softly at him. It’s chilling. 

The second one laughs. “We are you.” 

They all turn to stare at him. Their voices feel scratchy and distorted, like they’re far away and his ears are full of water. 

“D̸̡̻̟͎̗̣̯͍͇̿͋͊̇̆̄͝ơ̸̪͓̂̒̒̈́̐̀͠n̸̩͚̰͑͘ť̴͇͓̭̳̩͗̓̉͑͛͘ ̴̯͌̓͑̌͝y̶̨̧̛̰̳̝͇͖̲͆̽̑̍̈́̃̉o̵͕͎̣̣̰͙̩̘̾̈́͠u̵̥͓̖̪͓̹͕͖͒̄͛ ̸̮̳̹͊͠͝r̷͍͔̘̰̥̐ͅȅ̶̛̘̭̺̱̘̋̅̇͗̂m̸̢̡̙̎̏͒̓̍͆̉̅̈ę̵͙̳͋͑̒m̵̨̨̻̯̜̩̻̫͖̀͗́b̸̹͖͇̒̊̾̎̍͊̏͝͝ẽ̷̝͓͈̫͎̊̂̓͘r̸̛̫͎̳̖̦̯͔̼̓̂̄̓͝͠͠͠ ̶̗̮̼̱͔̣͚̏̋̒̊̉͘u̴̧͖͓̦̿̄̌͐ͅś̷̛̛͕͉͗̉͛̍,̷̡̹͔̏̐̇͐͂ ̵̧̭͊͐͑̀K̴̢͉͖̖̲̼̠̰͉̓͐̔̄̚ă̸̝̺̹̫̐̅̓̎͘͝ͅͅȑ̵̡̨̛̗̤l̴̤̼̺͋̆̎̕?̵̧͈̟̝̦̪̆͜͝͠”

  
  


And then, he’s back. He’s somewhere full of snow, and a tall blonde child is staring at him from a few feet away. A giant half and half boy is to his right and a shorter brown haired one is to his left. They’re all staring at him. 

“Aren’t you coming, Karl?” The brown haired one asks. “We need to hurry to get to Snowchester, it’s getting dark and mobs will be here soon.” 

Karl blinks at him. The name Karl feels right, and seeing as what it’s what the boy called him, he sticks with it. 

“Snowchester..?” He questions hesitantly. 

And then, the blonde one blinks at him, before staring with a brow quirked up on his face. 

“Well, yeah! It’s Friday so we have to go to Snowchester so you can tell us a story!” 

Karl pauses.  _ A story?  _

He tries to think of something. A story. To his surprise, one flashes up instantly in his mind.

It’s of a place in the west, a place with bandits, a place with a barkeeper, cannibals, and sheriffs. It’s a story with death, a story with humor, a story with loss. 

The story feels familiar. It feels personal. He thinks it’ll work. 

“Ah,” He smiles at the boy. He really needs to learn the names of these kids. 

“Aright,” Karl’s smile curves into a grin. “I’ll tell you a story.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why the fuck this got surprisingly long for me. Admittedly I took it in a really fucking different direction than i'd planned but i just kinda decided it seemed fun and went along with it.
> 
> also ye karl replaces himself with a man named hutt cuz of the fish.
> 
> i like to kind of think this is like a loop. karl tells the boys a story, someone finds out they're real, he goes on a tale, he gets his memory taken, and then he tells the boys the story and repeat :)
> 
> I think I may write another fic more focused on Karl telling each of the tales to the boys that's more comforting. I'm not sure how to feel about the direction this one went in-
> 
> also with all the other karls?? i didnt actually watch the end of karl's wild west stream i just read a summary of it and i coldnt fucking remember what those guys did so i just wrote that shit and went along with it. idk.
> 
> i'll proofread tomorrow, it's 3am oops


End file.
